


Things to Do in Pegasus

by thingswithwings



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alien Culture, Alien Planet, Games, M/M, Paperwork, Sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-03
Updated: 2007-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-24 04:48:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingswithwings/pseuds/thingswithwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first few weeks in a new galaxy: paperwork, leisure activities, makeouts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things to Do in Pegasus

  
After the thing where he learns to operate machines with his mind, moves to another galaxy, makes new alien friends, accidentally unleashes space vampires on an unwitting galactic populace, effects a daring rescue or two, and shoots his commanding officer, John Sheppard, Major, USAF, discovers that it really doesn't matter where you are - a job in the military is pretty much always a job in the military: paperwork, orders, and brain-dulling monotony punctuated briefly by heartstopping panic.

Once the initial craziness is over and Atlantis isn't going to immediately implode, John's job consists mostly of telling people where to put stuff, setting up security checkpoints, and trying not to kill the scientists who keep running up to him, doe-eyed and panting like teenagers in the back seat of a station wagon, asking him to touch various Ancient doodads.

It involves much less zooming about in alien spacecraft than he had anticipated. And much more paperwork.

So, when the guy with the loud voice and the receding hairline bursts into John's office, it's almost a relief. The odds are fifty-fifty that McKay will want him to activate something with his brain, which is getting real old real fast, but at least McKay is unlikely to be doe-eyed about it.

John looks up from the forms he's filling out – in triplicate – to see McKay, not doe-eyed exactly, but definitely panting a little: he's flushed, and grinning, and shifting a little from foot to foot like a kid high on sugar.

"Doctor," John says, placing the completed forms neatly into his outbox, "What can I do for you?"

McKay's grin widens even further, showing off his uneven teeth. John finds himself smiling back, almost against his will.

Then the guy tilts his chin up at John and asks, "Are you wearing your gun?"

John's day gets marginally better after that, for a while at least: football, popcorn, pushing McKay off a balcony. Then there's the thing where there's a big black cloud that sucks the life out of people – as if they didn't have enough of that going around already – but it's over soon enough.

-

After the thing where he gets fed on by a giant bug, is threatened with explosive decompression, and dies for a little while, John wakes up in the infirmary, and figures that this is going to be even more paperwork.

He's right, and just as he's filling out SGC form 407B – Officer Returned From the Dead – McKay barges into his office again.

This time, he doesn't wait for John to ask. "I've got something to show you," he says, cheeks flushed like last time, eyes bright, and turns around and leaves.

John stays in his chair for a minute, just to be an asshole, and eventually McKay comes back and pokes his head around the door.

"You coming or what, Major?"

John follows.

It turns out that the Ancient lab they discovered the day before isn't a lab: it's a game, like SimCity, but with crappier graphics. Still, it beats paperwork, and John learned a long time ago that when you're on base you have to make your own fun.

Besides, McKay isn't so bad, once you get used to him.

-

After the thing where he gets captured by the Genii, accidentally starts dealing explosives and nuclear weapons, leads a tactical assault on a Wraith ship, and makes enemies with a bunch of radioactive weirdos, John gets back to Atlantis, and figures that Elizabeth is going to send him on missions to score beans for pretty much the foreseeable future.

He's not wrong, and it turns out that offworld missions involve much less meeting hot aliens and doing space-battle than he had anticipated. And, again, much more paperwork.

"The trade agreements must always be filed in triplicate," the Minister of Offworld Trade says, steepling her fingers and peering at John through her little spectacles. John meticulously fills in his name, government association (if any), relationship to the Wraith (check worshipper or not a worshipper), method of payment, home planetary address, and billing address (if different than home planetary address).

Just as he's dusting some sand over the ink on the third copy, McKay comes rushing in, out of breath, with Ford hot on his heels.

"Don't tell me," John says, looking up with a grin he can't quite hold back, "I've gotta come see this?"

McKay nods, and rushes back out. Ford rolls his eyes and jerks his thumb toward the door.

"It is pretty cool, sir," he says.

It turns out that this planet has a game not unlike hockey – or maybe curling – being played on ice with sticks and polished rocks. It's not football, but it's not the worst contact sport John's ever watched, and there are even snacks, which might be onion rings and might be deep-fried intestines of some kind; either way, they're deep-fried, which counts for a lot in terms of the sporting event experience.

McKay is going on about the rules of hockey and stuffing deep-fried onions – or maybe intestines – into his mouth while Teyla explains what does or does not count as a foul in Nawl-Vard, which is the sport they're watching.

"You cannot take out your opponent's eye with your stick," she says. "Nor can you bite her, though that changes when you play by Revairian Rules."

"We totally have to come back for the playoffs," McKay says.

John punches him in the shoulder. "You're all right, Rodney," he says. McKay smiles shyly at him and passes the deep-fried things.

-

After they've been on Atlantis for a few months, the routines have become routine: John's filled out most of the SGC forms at least once, including SGC 190A, Officer Injured by Sentient Flora, after Lieutenant Milano's team got back from L0G-1A0. Just when things start to get boring, something comes up; just when John starts to wish for comic books and townie bars and college football, McKay shows up with some wacky Pegasus thing to do, like he's the local activities director.

John finishes filing SGC form 322C, Bodiless or Insubstantial Alien Life-Forms (With Mind-Control Powers), and sits at his desk for a minute, twiddling his thumbs. His inbox is empty, and all of his pencils are sharpened and arranged according to height.

Nobody comes bursting through his door, so John sighs, gets up, and finds his way to McKay's office.

McKay is lost in a sea of papers, forms stacked up with no apparent rhyme or reason, some of them blank, some of them filled out but crinkled with spilled coffee, most of them held down by laptops or other half-identifiable electronic equipment. As John walks in, McKay looks up from where he's typing and squints at him for a moment.

"Oh, hey," he says.

"Hey," John says back.

"Can I get you something, Maj –" but McKay can't complete his sentence, since John's already kicked the door closed, leaned over at least three precarious stacks of paperwork, and kissed him on the mouth.

When he pulls back, McKay cocks his head and licks his lips. John sticks his hands in his pockets and smiles.

"What was that about?" McKay asks, finally.

John shrugs. "We gotta keep things interesting around here somehow."


End file.
